


New ends n' Old beginnings

by IndigoInfinity



Series: The Future Ain't How It Used To Be [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A bunch of community headcanons considered canon, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Future, AroAce D.Va, Aromantic, Asexual Character, Disabled Character, Doctor Correia dos Santos, F/F, M/M, Multi, Some old dads, Strike Commander Hana Song, There's Reaper76 but you don't see it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoInfinity/pseuds/IndigoInfinity
Summary: New Overwatch has been going strong for many years now. The old generation stepped off to give way to the younger members.That doesn't mean some retired dads can't still get involved in the occasional misadventure for old time's sake. Specially when "the kids" Commander Song and Doctor Correia dos Santos are involved.I do have a specific number of years after our current canon that this is supposed to be but I'll leave it to your interpretation how much time seems to have passed.This first part is mostly small intros to the setting.





	1. Intro

They were sitting at opposite sides of a diner booth. Mccree loved that the 1950’s ones came back in style and were popping up around town. Hanzo often indulged him, even though he could not contain his contempt for the outrageous mounds of grease, as he called most of the traditional dishes.

Jesse was slowly chewing on his fries while listening to his husband, hat by his side, red checkered shirt, worn jeans and boots matching the decoration. He couldn’t help but zone out a little. These things would hit him sometimes- a blend of appreciation, gratitude, bewilderment even; punching him full on the graying-bearded mug. Couldn’t blame ‘im. He would have never imagined this turn of events for his life. Not as a young and reckless gunslinger. Not as an experienced undercover agent. And still not as a “Hero” of the risen-from-ashes Overwatch, once again legitimate(-ish), with a real roof over his head and the little group of misfits that became his family over the years.

How long ago it all felt. The little escapades with no one less than Genji’s brother- of all people! The fun nights. The blunt fights. Of course Jesse didn’t want it to end- he was hooked and hopeless before long. But not in his wildest daydreams would he allow himself to imagine them here, now. So many years and such a long road later. Hah, like that time Talon attacked and they were left stranded on-

“Mccree!”

“Huh--” Jesse snapped out of it with a start. Hanzo was glaring at him. Little wrinkles around his eyes looked like they were framing his perfect face. Thin strands of hair that he kept brushing aside escaping his pretty gray and black hair pulled back into a (rather lazy, for him) bun. He was matching Jesse’s style with a navy blue shirt, dark jeans and black boots (that he took to wearing more often than not these days because the still biological parts of his lower legs had been painfully bothering him, though Hanzo would furiously deny it).

Being called by his last name was never a good sign, so he knew how he should respond. “I’m mighty sorry, darlin’. Y’know how scatterbrained I can get looking at ya.” He offered a sweet smile. “Say’t again.”

Hanzo muttered something in Japanese and Mccree pretended he still couldn’t understand it. The archer didn’t want to pursue. He was satisfied with letting out a dramatic sigh to make sure he had his husband’s attention this time, and went on.

“Hana called me again about the new recruit. The one with the drones. She keeps saying she cannot handle the kid anymore. Insubordination, inappropriate dress and speech… even sneaking out at night.”

“Aw, c’mon, honey, you don’t need to be worrying ‘bout her. Ain’t she the most qualified person to be leading them right now? I keep telling ya, she’s the best commander they’ll ever have.”

“Of course she is!” Hanzo snapped, more harshly than he intended. Then, softer. “I would never doubt her performance. I am very proud of her. Of them both.” His smile was warm, sincere. It was no secret that Hana and Lúcio were like adopted children in this found family of theirs. One shaped up to be a magnificent Strike Commander; the other became Head of Bioengineering (oh, how glad Hanzo was to see him take a much more ethical approach than Ziegler), and second in command. Best friends, siblings. 

“Then why’d ya keep yapping ‘bout them?” The cowboy teased. “I mean, you sure took after my kinda talking lately, didn’t ya?” Mccree grinned. It was something he had slowly caught on. He knew Hanzo hadn't been one to spill his thoughts without good reason, but he was shit-eating-grin proud to attribute that gradative change to his own influence. Of course he knew his husband would never admit to being changed by Jesse's _Loud American way_ , which was why he brought it up so nonchalantly and matter of factly.

“They’re-” He halted to soak that in. Both the words and the expression. “...What?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice, darling!” He stuffed some fries in his mouth, which worked as a dramatic pause. “They say couples get more and more alike with the years, yeah? Didn’t I always tell ya I’ll still get you to wear a hat too one day?” He could barely contain his snickering.

Hanzo scoffed, made a disgusted face, then pulled on his best neutral expression and deadpan voice. “I want a divorce.”

Mccree’s laughter came out in familiar deep barks. He clung a hand to his chest, faking being deeply hurt by the remark. It only took a few seconds of that contagious sound to coerce Hanzo’s own, more discreet laugh out to join him. Although soon the heavy smoker turned to coughing and wheezing, and the reminder of ill lungs threatened to sour the mood.

“Enough.” Hanzo raised a hand to stop Jesse’s silliness and resume their conversation. “What I meant to say was: Don’t they remind you of someone, some, say, 35 years ago?”

It was the cowboy who scoffed now. “Sure hope not, darlin’.” He kept a smile but shook his head. “Things are too different now. Hana can be strict, but remember she gets mad at anythin’. And forgives just as quickly. Her tough love act is a lot more act and a lot less tough than Reyes was, if that’s where ya gettin’ at.” Mccree turned cheeky again. “Of course this new kid couldn’t be close to what I was back then if he tried.”

“Of course.” A pointy eyebrow raised. “Bah. Come, my tanuki. Enough of this…” Hanzo gestured to Jesse’s plate, then vaguely to the whole diner. And simply stood up to leave. “...this soggy mess. I will make you something actually good for you.”

__________


	2. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The husbands travel for spring vacation.

It wasn’t easy having your family spread all over the world. A downside of Overwatch being so diverse. A perk, though, was having so many vacation choices on your retirement.

Every year spring had Hanzo reminiscing of Hanamura. This time, things lined up too perfectly for them not to take the chance.   
Both Genji and Zenyatta were home, off duty, and Fareeha was already staying over for Hanami, the sakura festivals happening the following weeks. It was a rare occurrence- the royally busy agents in one place, with the two of them free to visit.

“Hush, hush! Hayaku.” Hanzo hurried his husband. The lazy cowboy. 

“Darling. We’re early. It’s fine.”

“We’re not! You know it takes longer to check in Stormbow and Peacekeeper.”

It did take extra time, and along with one very last minute trip to the bathroom from Mccree, it almost caused them to lose the flight. 

Hanzo wanted to deliver some I told you so lines: ‘See, next time…’ ‘If you would just listen to me…’. But his husband fell asleep as soon as the airship took off and spent the whole duration of the flight lightly snoring. It aggravated Hanzo immensely as he was left alone with only a sudoku app on his holophone and the awful in-flight entertainment, bored for hours. 

When Jesse finally rejoined the real world, his companion was irritable and grumpy. “How’d you do, sweetheart? Did ya get some sleep?” The reply was a terribly ambiguous grunt; Hanzo wouldn’t even look away from the old superhero movie on his individual screen (something from the early 2020’s, Jesse guessed, with a female lead dressed in black leather shooting endless bullets while making impractical sexy poses). “Aight, it‘s fine, you’ll get to rest when we get there. Woke up damn early in the morning, we did.” 

He knew his archer. This would all go away very soon.

Sure enough, the minute they saw Genji waiting to pick them up, the annoyance was forgotten. Hanzo bowed courteously; his brother mimicked it. Then both immediately grinned ear to ear and jumped into a heartfelt embrace. 

They automatically switched to their first language and started cheerfully picking on each other’s appearance- “Look at those wrinkles, brother! You look fifteen years older than me!” “With this outfit you’re wearing? You look like you were a last century refurbish”. They joked and anxiously tried to catch up on the last year and a half they’d been apart, talking too quickly for Mccree to follow. He knew Zenyatta had no trouble with the language, but the omnic was polite enough to pretend to be lost as well and walked beside Jesse- who was carrying all of the couple’s luggage by himself- to offer some chit chat.

Genji and his master had made great strides in Hanamura, he learned. Which was pretty amazing, considering they were still full time N-Overwatch heroes and usually couldn’t stay home more than a few weeks each before being sent on some mission. And if their time management impressed Mccree, their energy straight up awed him. It was like they needed no rest- which was almost true, anyway.

It was past noon when they reached the traditional dojo style house. The overwhelming feeling of ‘home’ gave Hanzo a bittersweet heartache. The panel sliding doors and impeccably polished floors reminded him of times when life was so much simpler- the only thing he’d have to worry about was his father and Genji. No terrorist organization with dark tendrils all over and world domination plots. Just Do not disappoint father and No one must know just how drunk the green haired playboy got last night or how many hired girls and boys he had passed out with him in his room. It made him chuckle. But then, there were other memories. Not just the order to kill his own brother as one might jump to. He was made to do atrocious things in the name of family. Tch.

He was grateful for the work Genji was doing in Hanamura. He should let him know that more often. The sparrow never understood why Hanzo would not help. “It’s a different thing altogether, Hanzo!” he had told him again that afternoon “It’s not the ‘Shimada’ empire anymore. It’s an organization linked to Overwatch! We’re doing real good for these people!”. Hanzo believed him. He trusted his brother was doing good with all his heart. But he just couldn’t bring himself to get involved with the same names, the same buildings. Hell, he would’ve chosen to be a Mccree instead of a Shimada when they got married years ago, if it wasn’t for his stupid pride.

Now the only one attaching the name to the organization was Genji, anyway. He got rid of everyone else when they took the compound back, ages ago, with the help of the whole Overwatch team. It was not like they could regain all the records, but they knew enough to go after contact after contact, politician after politician. Drug dealers, hitmen, money launders- With the help of Zenyatta, Genji brought them all to justice, to jail. But it was not over and Hanzo suspecte it would never be. You dig into the rat nest and catch one while ten get away. You create a power vacuum and it will eventually be refilled.

They changed into yukatas and found the others in the central park- the heart of the compound. It was lush with green, lined with sakura trees, and a droopy willow littering the carp pond with leaves, fountains with fish and dragon sculptures. How peaceful it all looked, right in the middle of the carnage business. Hanzo was surprised to see some flowers already sprouting from the branches. It meant that in just a day or two they would all be blooming. He had forgotten how early that could happen up north.

It was the first time little Nameera would see Hanami. Pharah was super excited about it, she knew her daughter would love the soft pink rain. Unfortunately, Angela couldn’t come with her family. Even if she wasn’t officially a member of New Overwatch, for UN and public relations reasons, she was still a key ‘independent researcher’ at the Buenos Aires base.

Zenyatta had been the one to prepare the plentiful pic-nic basket. He loved to calmly explain to the humans (brag) that he was such a good cook because he was never distracted by the food with any physiological needs. He could mix ingredient and spices accurately and artfully. No one could ever tell him otherwise- they were too busy savoring his dishes to care. So objectively, it was true.

Hanzo and Jesse sat on the grass under the cherry trees. Eating avocado-mushroom sandwiches. To the sound of a mother, a child, a cyborg and an omnic playing and laughing behind them. As the colors of the sky change for twilight. Holding their sweetheart’s hand. Looking into each other’s eyes. Feeling the spring breeze play with their hair. Smiling, at peace.

Hanzo could forget the place’s history for a while. Because family was not a name. This. This was family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >Next chapter, #3, is centered on a major character's death. It can be skipped if you wish. (It's already written).
> 
> >My first language is not English and I'm not an experienced writer. I'm always open to feedback/corrections.
> 
> >I've got an artblogful of gay OW @ [this link](http://cassasart.tumblr.com) if you'd like to see.


	3. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time and tear can get the better of us sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >Double update! Enjoy!
> 
> >This is a death-centered chapter. It can be skipped if you don't want to go through these themes.

It wasn’t exactly a big surprise. Still.

They received the call early in the morning, so it would be late night for Lúcio. Hanzo picked up the holo-phone lazily, sat up, listened to a few words from the other side of the line, tensed, glanced at the man lying by his side. It caught Jesse’s attention instantly. He sat up on the bed too. Both had nothing but underwear on- not because of anything that happened in the night, but for the heat wave that struck all of Europe. By the soft look of compassion Hanzo gave him as he passed the phone, Jesse had a pretty good idea of what it’d be about. He was right.

He switched the call to speaker mode while his husband quietly got up with a small squeeze of his right hand and slowly started to dress and prepare to pack.

“Slow down, sweetheart. It’s alright, breathe and slow down.” Whenever Lúcio got too nervous, his almost nonexistent accent became too thick and his speech pattern accelerated. Jesse was not awake enough for it.

Most of the conversation from there was their “Yes”, “I see” and “Hmm-hm”s while the doctor spoke, trying to take his time, his voice catching and breaking sometimes.

Jesse didn’t get up; he didn’t feel like it, and he was well aware that it wasn’t needed, there wasn’t much to pack and Hanzo would do it.

“-of course I couldn’t participate in the operation myself, being close to him, but I flew all the way here to California to oversee it personally.” “Hm, of course.” “I… everything was fine, y’know? I made sure. They were the best doctors. It was the best team, Jesse.” “I know, I know.” “It wasn’t supposed to-. He…- These things just happen sometimes, man. Just… complications.” They heard his plea behind the words. It’s not fair. Things had all reason to go right, but they went wrong anyway. “I know, son. We all know you did everything. You’re the best one that could’ve taken care of him. These things happen.”

The two of them took it upon themselves to call some other members, so Lúcio wouldn’t have to deal with it all by himself. And they had to spend a small fortune to book the next possible flight to the United States of America. But they were able to be there personally by evening.

Somehow, Hana was already there. One arm over Lúcio’s shoulder and another relentlessly scanning a few holo-screens at once. The natural leader. She was hurting, and she was comforting the others, but she was still Strike Commander of the New Overwatch and she had to make sure everything went well, everywhere. The news should be popping up all around the world by now. There’d be repercussions and interviews. Questions none of them would want to answer, but she would have to. Jesse’s head swam just thinking about it, so he pushed it aside. Their kids ran to hug them tight as soon as they spotted him, anyway. It helped.

They talked in length. A bit of catching up for the months away that soon turned to stories from the past. Hanzo wasn’t Overwatch back then, so it was mostly Mccree talking. They’ve heard most of these, if not all, before. But now, standing there, with this new weight… it all shone a different light on the old tales. The time we got stuck in Russia; That birthday party for Reyes when he showed up in full cosplay of an early 10’s obscure game character; The time he, Gabriel, Jack, Ana and Reinhardt were all drunk in a fancy gala party...

Others arrived in the next couple of hours at the safehouse that became a makeshift meeting place. A mourning place. After Angela came, she was the one who kept explaining it over and over to every new person: “his heart couldn’t take it.” “Yes, there was the program, but it actually didn’t help with this- it just made things worse” “He didn’t react to the medicine.” “Lúcio had replaced the organs, yes, yes. This was a minor malfunction. It should have been a small routine procedure…” “His heart was under a lot of stress. There was nothing they could have done...” Perhaps if he had let me help, she thought. She knew he wouldn’t, like none of them would. A bullet hole or a broken bone is one thing, but when it came to more serious modifications, the crew would go to Lúcio or even more traditional care. She couldn’t blame them. The chronic aspects of Gabriel’s condition could never be fixed, after all, and the investigation made her lose her license.

Angela had been already in the US, but Fareeha was with their daughter in Egypt. She wasn’t able to come as fast as the others, since Ana and Reinhardt were obviously already en route.

But there was one arrival that made everyone go quiet. Mccree was outside having a smoke (a few, to be honest, one after another) so he was the first to greet Reyes. The man’s easy grin was gone. You could see the puffy eyes even though he wasn’t a hundred percent corporeal at the moment- wisps of black smoke forming at the edges of his face and flowing freely from his arms. His hair and beard- even his skin- seemed way grayer than the last time they saw each other, just a few months before. He looked like shit. As one would expect. But it sent a shiver down Jesse’s spine. He looked like the Reaper again, back on those convoluted days with Talon and secrets and so much blood.

As Gabriel approached, Jesse removed his hat and gave him a curt nod. But Gabe raised his arms and went for a hug without a word or pause. It felt heavy. And went on for longer than he expected. When they pulled away, the wraith of a man simply put a hand on Jesse’s cheek, as if appreciating him. The little ingrate. Then took the lit cigar right out of his mouth and went inside. No one dared tell him to put it out.

The cowboy managed a little smile at that, beside himself. Puto. He took another smoke out of a serape pocket (yes.) and leaned on the porch rail again, letting his thoughts wander, his memories of Morrison grip him. The old Commander that was never his commander, in reality. Back then, he was Blackwatch. They were something else entirely. His loyalty was to Reyes, and Reyes often portrayed Jack as an enemy, at that time, with all the fighting…  
It wasn’t until after the Recall, the 76 persona, that he and Jesse turned to more friendly terms. Specifically after the one last big strike against Talon- Gabriel’s rescue. Seeing them reunited, their love for each other even after all hell had descended on them. That did it. It overrode any leftover remorse Jesse might’ve had for the man.

A coughing fit interrupted him, making his chest ache. When Mccree looked back up, he was surprised by a frowning Hana snatching his cigar away and dumping it in her soda plastic cup. “Whoa there! C’mon, sweetie!”

“Don’t you sweetie me. I’m not ready for this again. Not for you.” She threw him an icy glare before leaning over the railing with him.

Mccree watched her sigh heavily and sag her shoulders. A tiny moment of vulnerability she wouldn’t let the others see. He noticed the creases starting to form on the corners of her eyes. The few shiny silver hairs standing out from the black curtain. Unusual signs of age for a korean person still on her 30’s. It was the job. It worn you and ate you away, as it did to Morrison before.

“And stop staring.”

“Beg y’pardon.”

They kept silent for a few minutes, keeping each other company, only their hair and clothes swaying on the cool breeze. Conversation slowly bubbled again inside. Reyes probably went on receiving everyone’s sentiments.

“We need to decide what to do with him.” Hana stated, without looking up.

It caught Mccree off guard. “W-what ya mean, honey?” The grave! He realized. Jack already had a resting place. Grand, with a damn statue. Extra as fuck. “Hm. I see. There’s the memorial…”

“He’d never want to… You know he always hated that thing. We can’t leave him there.”

“Right.” Of course Hana was right. The kid was always right. He straight up despised the memorial- ‘Our Hero, Commander of the Legendary Overwatch’. It had always been a joke to Jack.

The Shimadas joined them on the balcony then, apparently running away from all the chatting inside, as well. Hanzo quietly wrapped his arms around Jesse’s waist from behind and locked his hands on the softness of Jesse’s stomach. A real comforting gesture.

Genji had his faceplate off; a show of respect and solidarity. He stuck to the other side of the porch, giving the other three some space.

“We should take him to Indiana.” Mccree broke the silence. The brothers made a synchronized baffled ‘Huh??’, which prompted him to fill them in. “I mean- not the official memorial. Let that grave stay empty as it’s always been. He’s a simple country boy.”

“Agreed.” None of them noticed Gabriel standing behind them, joining their little outdoor secret meeting. His deep, somber voice was unmistakeable. It sounded hoarse, even for him.

They all exchanged glances and nods at his approval. The final word had to be his.

“He still has the farm-” … “Had.” Gabe sighed discreetly. It took him a moment and everyone waited patiently. It’d take some getting used to. “I suppose… it is mine now. There’s this place: a real pretty hill. Just what that damn romantic guapo would want.”  
He folded his arms and closed his eyes. Gabe didn’t mind the tears streaking his face- not in front of those kids, his family. “The Reaper became the widow. Ironic.”

He let out a grim, joyless chuckle that was only joined by Mccree. Then, they all fell into a comfortable silence again, for long minutes. Mourning, remembering, just feeling each other’s presence in this unexpected early reunion. Tired, ragged, jetlagged.

“We should all try to get some rest. It’s late, the others won’t arrive ‘till morning.” Hana finally said, decisive, commanding. “We’ll be busy soon enough.”


	4. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many times can you describe hugs?
> 
> This is a D.Va focused chapter. (McHanzo is still there.)
> 
> It got way longer than the others buy I'm trying to let it flow without worrying about such things, forgive me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is some alcohol consumption.

Hana came to hate her birthdays.

While she was just “pro gamer D.Va”, in her teens, the date was easily enough kept out of public knowledge. Her fans had found little anniversaries to send her gifts- her first stream, first world championship (which she won, by the way), first sponsorship…- it didn’t bother her. She found it quite flattering and amusing that thousands of people would come together and create these milestones to celebrate her. Because they were for D.Va, the superstar. Not her. Not for Hana.

When she first got sent to the Korean military, it was still possible to keep some privacy, some secrecy. Even though at eighteen years old her face was plastered on news websites on a monthly (sometimes weekly) basis.

Overwatch, though… It practically merged her persona with her real life self. It was hellish. Any leftover classified information was eventually “leaked”. Her full name, date of birth, even her family, her living relatives. She couldn’t protect her info anymore, not when it went into the overloaded post-recall Athena.

It was ruined for her then. She had made such a huge deal of separating her public identity from her actual personality; it allowed her to cope.

After being promoted to New-Overwatch Commander, a few years later, she gave up on “D.Va” altogether. It didn’t fit with her late 20s’ more responsible role, anyway. She was just, officially, Strike Commander Hana Song.

She allowed the team to make a big deal celebration out of her 30th. And that was it, the last time. Everyone knew of her strong preferences and respected them (because they knew better not to). The only ones allowed to give her wishes and little presents now was her closest “family” team members (and former team members): Hanzo and Jesse, Genji, Lúcio, Gabe and-- well… just Gabe now. Satya always asked a week before if she please could, this time, since she had found this one thing that Hana would so love. Every year. It was too adorable for her to decline, of course.

But they ALL knew. That’s why, when she got to the eerily quiet and dark communal room of the Watchpoint, the split second before- she knew. She knew and her blood boiled before the lights went on and her peers jumped from behind the furniture.

“Surprise!!” Some of them exclaimed in unison. “Happy Birthday!!” did others. It wasn’t even fucking well coordinated- how dare they?!

Hana stared at them with wide eyes, screaming inside. “Who thE FUCK--” she started, but Lúcio quickly ran (rollerskated) to cut her off. 

“I did! It was aaaall me!” 

“Oh my GOD, I swEAR TO-” 

“Yeah, I know, I know! You’ll kill me ‘n all that!”

He got closer to his best friend, looked up at her with that radiant smile of his, and gave her a suffocatingly tight hug. “But! I made these so you should probably reconsider my murder!” He pushed something into her mouth when she opened it to complain again.

Hana was bewildered on top of infuriated now. She was about to spit whatever the fuck that was when her brain accidentally registered the taste. Her bro stepped back to watch, annoyingly calm, almost smug. Hana slooowly chewed the creamy, sticky sweet ball while warily looking into Lúcio’s eyes with a burning intensity. Her rage gradually waned as she processed the bittersweet cocoa flavor.

“Honestly?! This is not fair!” Her one greatest weakness. Lúcio’s fancy homemade brigadeiros. The commander closed her eyes in bliss, savoring it, and when she opened them there was another chocolate little ball held in front of her face. 

“Oh, fuck you, Lúcio.” 

“Ah-ah!” He raised another hand to wag a finger at her. “Be nice and there’s a lot more where this came from.” She raised one eyebrow but took it without hesitation. Sometimes when life gave you brigadeiros, you had to accept a whole surprise party in return.

She finally sighed in resignation and looked around the room decorated with little garlands and pink balloons. “You know me too well, young man.” She was still mad, but at least it was just family. Beside her brother, there was the power couple Angela and Fareeha, with little Nameera; Satya by their side in a gorgeous green sari with golden details; Mccree already offering a warm goofy smile and matching dress shirts with Hanzo, who was sitting by the window on a ledge; Ana already pushing an eager Reinhardt’s chair to the snack table- she guessed he was promised the food “when Hana arrived” and demanded to be immediately obliged; Gabriel and Sombra to the side…

She delayed her gaze on him. His ashy dark skin, his graying beard looking ever grayer, the out of place black hoodie that made him look strangely younger. Gabe looked better, sure, but she was well aware of how versed he was at looking good while that was not the case at all. He was probably the most private man in former Overwatch, trumping the king of stoic appearances, Hanzo- who was a closed off man, but had his relationship with Jesse made public after only a few months; while Gabe and Jack were a thing for years before even their own team realized.  
They were only actually seen together post-Overwatch, post-Talon, when, in their own words, ‘it didn’t matter anymore, because they weren’t leading anything or fighting for anyone’.

Reyes grinned and raised his eyebrows. She realized she had been staring for a second too long. Sombra still chatting while messing with some holo-interface, not realizing he wasn’t paying attention. Hana returned the smile and Gabe shrugged, seeming oddly… apologetic. It confused her for a half moment until she put it together. 

Hana gasped softly. It was for him. She looked from Gabe to Lúcio inquisitively, who was still patiently watching her. He winked and gave a slight, quick nod that no one else would be able to catch. Oh, she loved how a look was always enough for Lúcio to know exactly what was wandering through her mind. 

The weary Commander smiled brightly, honestly, for the first time that day. Yeah, ok, she couldn’t be mad at him at all. Now she knew why all this- it was the first birthday, the first possible celebration for the team, after Jack. Everyone was worried about Gabriel. And he knew, of course. Most of them probably knew, she just had been a little slow to keep up. Because of the surprise, she told herself. And the long day.

She left her bro’s stupid smirking face behind with a playful shove and started around the room to properly greet people, some of whom she hadn’t seen since the funeral a couple months ago. The Ziegler-Amaris were the first to group hug her. Specially eight-year-old Nameera, who loved to cling to Hana’s waist (wasn’t this girl already huge for her age?? It seemed she’d take after Fareeha’s height, not Angela’s.) and shower her with questions about game strategies. 

“Hey, hey! Slow down, Nami!” She laughed along with the girl’s moms. Hana often called the little one ‘The next D.Va’, which always drove her wild with joy and confidence. And Hana wasn’t even humoring her; the girl was better at these new multi-VR games than herself nowadays. She was a tiny genius with a missing front tooth and more brand deals than the ‘real’ D.Va had at twice her age.

She knew Satya wasn’t big into physical contact, but the woman brushed her arm fondly- more than most people would ever get- and, with a wink, put a small ribboned satin bag in Hana’s pocket.  
“Open later.” 

She nodded. “Thank you, Sym.” It was usually a bunny-themed piece of jewelry in silver. Intricate, detailed and exquisitely delicate. Hana honestly didn’t know where Satya ‘found’ these but strongly suspected she had them custom made somewhere around the Hyderabad Watchpoint, where she was usually stationed throughout the year.

“Birthday girl!” Jesse called out and beckoned. ‘Birthday girl’ excused herself and made her way over, sneering at the expression. She prepared to receive more hugs. First it was Mccree. An all-encompassing hug with his smoky and sweet scent, his radiant warmth. She always felt like a twenty-year-old again with the old man’s bear hugs- a lost young soldier feeling safe for the first time so far away from home. How different things were now. Like her cold metal arm mirroring his, the faint scarring all over her right side. (You can only blow up your own MEKA so many times before it happens with you still inside). It made her belong, in a way. Weren’t they all a little messed up?

When it was Hanzo’s turn she went to him signaling ‘no no, don’t get up’. He shot the sharpest glare she’d ever seen at his husband. 

Couldn’t keep his mouth shut, hm? Of course, in all the years Hanzo knew Jesse, he could not. He told her about the trouble with his legs. The cowboy put his hands up with a chuckle. Guilty. Hanzo accepted the sitting hug, resigned.

“You know it’s silly to hide this from me.” Hana scolded, though she understood. She knew him; the dragon had to be strong, preferably seemingly invulnerable.

“I was not hiding. Just-” 

“I know. It’s ok. You’re not in trouble, Shimada.”  
They laughed together. 

“They’ll have to replace his legs, so ya gotta help me keep this old man resting, doctor’s orders, ‘till they do it next month.” Jesse chimed in. Hana winced with a little ‘ouch!’.

“Bah!” Hanzo dismissed them. “It is not so bad. Lúcio is being overprotective and preemptive. It is his job.” 

“See what I mean, sweetheart? Ya gotta help me and so does God. Haven’t met anyone more stubborn than m’darling here.” Hanzo scoffed and was met with a forehead kiss from his giggling husband. Which led to more kissing back and forth. 

“Augh, jeez, get a room!” She made a face and walked away, leaving the two to their sickly sweet shenanigans. Nothing the queen of aro-ace enjoyed witnessing. 

Ana was looking so ready for a distraction from Reinhardt’s usual boasting and telling, she had to go to the rescue. They were still by the food, so that was a plus.

Hana got excited to see an ice bucket on the snack table with a dozen of small, green bottles inside. She had to admit when Lúcio strived to please, he succeeded. The dude got her favorite brand of soju, Hwayo- not exactly high quality but still. He probably had to import it from a Korean shop directly. (Just how long had he been planning this party?). She took a bottle and poured into a small glass before heading to the old couple, ready to receive yet more hugs.

Ana first smiled widely and held her tight, then whispered by her ear. “You understand, yes?” 

Hana chuckled quietly. “Yes, jaddati.” Even if not everyone knew this was about Gabe, it wouldn’t escape Horus-Granny here. She saw all.

“Good, good. You’re smart.” Ana let go of her. She was by far the oldest woman in the room and yet she had an aura of elegance and grace that never dimmed. Hana realized she was wearing a matching hijab with Fareeha, hers a pearly glistening pastel pink with silver thread embroidery on the hem that matched her hair; while her daughter’s was a pale gold with the same silver accent. Ana had a modest long sleeved dress in blue that complemented the iridescent hijab. She’d smoke anyone else in this party.

Reinhardt pushed past before they could say anything else. The big guy was eager to show some love, too. “Commander!!” His booming voice almost hurt from up close. “Happy birthday!!!” Oh heavens, she’d never understand how Ana, so soft spoken, handled being always by his side. 

“Thank y-” Impressively enough, Reinhardt was still taller than most people while in a (huge, custom made) wheelchair. It also left him in an optimal hugging height. He grabbed Hana as if she was a small child- in comparison, she looked like one- and smothered her until she thought his suit would leave a printed fabric pattern on her face. When those bulky arms finally let her escape, Hana gasped for air. Laughter erupted in the room, most prominently from Reinhardt himself. Loud, heartily laughter. Hana looked down to her feet. Her drink had gone all to the floor and her jeans.

“Aaaw, nOOoooo…” She shook her leg a bit. It would dry soon enough. She just hated to waste the soju.

“Don’t worry, my friend! There is enough beverages to get you drunk trice!” Reinhardt grabbed the half full green bottle he had apparently served Ana before, refilled Hana’s glass and grabbed one for himself. “Cheers! Zum Wohl!!”

Everyone in the room inevitably payed attention when Reinhardt spoke. So when he lifted the small glass in a toast, the others did so as well, repeating the German words of good health. Most with soju or beer, soda for Nameera (who was only allowed it at parties) and Lúcio (who didn’t drink).

Hana drank half of her soju in one go, winced as it burned down her throat, clicked her tongue a few times. “Ah. Thank you.” She patted her titan grampa on the shoulder. He gave her a wink and a nod. 

There was only the two left to greet, the ones she was selfishly anxious to talk to, and had left for last. She loved Gabe as much as anyone else in the family, but she never knew how to approach grieving people, it always made her uneasy, anxious. It made her say stupid shit.  
And Sombra… err, she meant well… sometimes. But...

Sombra grinned seeing Hana coming towards them. “Here comes la diva. Gracing the peasants with her presence.” ...yeah. They didn’t see eye to eye about… anything. About life in general. Even her constant mocking tone alone was enough to unnerve ‘D.Va’. 

“Shut up, pendeja. Don’t start annoying Hana at her own birthday party.” Reyes bit at her, though trying to hold down a smile. 

“Oh, please. I already gave her the present of not getting in her phone today. Do you know how many cosplay pictures this woman takes, Gabriel? How many images of random baby animals she saves from the internet??” She huffed and sneered. “It’s embarrassing to even look at.”

Hana just rolled her eyes.

He couldn’t hold in the rough laugh. It reminded him of himself, he thought, a lifetime ago. The one who didn’t mind rules too much poking fun of the righteous Strike Commander. The rushing memories felt like needles suddenly stabbing his heart, so he quickly pushed the train of thought away and focused on the present. He went in for the obligatory hug. “Enjoying it, niña?”

“Niña?” She almost laughed. “You’re making me feel younger, Gabe.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and for the first time that night pressed her arms tighter than the other half of the embrace did. The air around him was always eerily cold with the constant nano-smoke of his body dying and regenerating, over and over. She felt the solidity under her hands shift for a second as he sighed.

“For what it’s worth” he whispered “I opposed this as soon as I heard.” Hana ‘pff’d in response and he went on. “It was nice to see these folks again, though.”

He pulled back suddenly, phasing through her fingers. That was all the old man allowed himself. Dwell too long and he might get too sappy. He has an aesthetic to follow. Reyes cleared his throat and resumed his regular tone. “I’m guessing Genji and the others are out there saving the world?”

It gave Hana a shiver but she tried to keep her composure and her face only betrayed her for a moment. “Y-yes. Yes, I sent them to New Zealand earlier this week, to learn more about the Junker threat spreading, see what we can do.” She frowned, thinking. “I’m actually glad Jamison isn’t here today. I’m so tired of the UN breathing down my neck over his “gift” bomb threats.” She airquoted. They were never just threats. They were actual bombs inside a gift wrapped box that he’d hand you, then watch you expectantly while making explosion puns. Somehow Jamie had never understood that it was not a ‘fun prank’ at parties.

Sombra snickered and Reyes shook his head. He looked over at Jesse, now drinking soju, talking merrily to Hanzo and picking snacks from a small plate. “I shouldn’t have brought a stray in that time.” He pointed to Mccree with a thumb. “Created a precedent, y’know.”

Hana had to laugh aloud at that. She tried to refill her glass but discovered the bottle she had was already empty; she had drunk more than she realized. “True! It’s all your fault, huh? Everyone we catch now suddenly repents” she waved her hands “and wants to join the good guys. Someone’s telling them we get dental, Gabe!” She flipped her short hair back with a metallic hand.

“...wait. You kids don’t get dental nowadays?”

Sombra raised an eyebrow. The two women stared at Gabriel for one second. Then the three of them started laughing together.

“Oh, I missed you here, Gabriel.” Hana pronounced his name the Spanish way.

She knew the drill. They would all get tipsy together. The old generation would start talking about the Old Days. Retelling the same stories- a bit different each time. They’d compare scars and inflate their heroic sources. As soon as Fareeha and Angela would put Nameera to bed, the conversation might turn to a romantic conquests competition that would summon an occasional glare from the narrator’s current partner. And exaggerated scoffs and faces from Hana.

And after all this, Lúcio would help everyone to their quarters; put a water bottle and an aspirin on their bedside table.

It wasn’t so bad after all, this time. She’d give him that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a while longer but I hope you liked it. This one turned out to be my fav chapter. 
> 
> I'm also eager to get the fifth going! It'll be focused on Lúcio's relation to Jesse and Hanzo this time, it'll finally have some action, and it's located in Brazil.
> 
> I am Brazilian and absolutely love Lúcio but my #1 regret is how they didn't give him anything Brazilian at all: no Pt voice lines, no accent, no real contribution to the character.  
> I'll see how much I can do about that!

**Author's Note:**

> >The chapters in this work are relatively short and can be read in any order- they're little intro bits and pieces for the setting and relationships.  
> >That being said: be warned that chapter 3 is centered on a major character's death. It can be skipped if you wish.  
> >My first language is not English and I'm not an experienced writer. I'm always open to feedback/corrections.  
> >I've got an artblogful of gay OW @ [this art blog](http://cassasart.tumblr.com) if you'd like to see.


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